


Better Than Pizza Money

by writerstrash



Series: Mr. Stark & His Kid [9]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony cares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-01-30 00:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21418858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerstrash/pseuds/writerstrash
Summary: May is away for the weekend. Tony keeps an eye on the teen spider.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Mr. Stark & His Kid [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1402432
Comments: 9
Kudos: 228





	Better Than Pizza Money

Tony knew May's first rule of this whole deal.

Peter couldn't know that May asked this favour at all. 

_I'm sixteen, I don't need a babysitter! Don't call Mr. Stark! May! Do not call Mr. Stark! _

Ever since he was little, May always had someone check up on him. Even if he had to stay home for just an hour on his own while May worked back late or had to go to a meeting or an appointment, she had a neighbour come by and check he was okay. May had friends who would drop off dinner if she was on an unexpected night shift, and sometimes she would just insist that he go to Ned's for the night.

The idea of Peter alone made May freak out. To her, he would always be the little boy that changed her into a mother. She would never stop worrying. And age, despite Peter's protests, would not change that.

So Peter was less than prepared to answer the door the next morning and be met with Tony Stark, dressed in a three-piece suit complete with his signature shades, and a paper Dunkin Donuts bag in his hand.

"I thought you had spider sense, kid?" he smirked. "I had to knock like, four times,"

Peter's eyes widened. He was very aware of the fact he was only wearing his sweatpants and his hair was _everywhere_. 

"W-what's happening right now?" he asked, still groggy and now panicking.

"You're being a terrible host," Tony sighed. "Are you gonna let me in?"

Peter took another moment to just stare at the man before he took a step to the side, allowing Tony into the apartment and closing the door. Hopefully his neighbours didn't see the billionaire walking through the halls. Too much was going on right now. Peter was about to have a meltdown.

Tony had been in his apartment before, he had visited plenty of times. But he visited on days that May had been home at some point. Right now, Tony was walking into a Peter Apartment. There were blankets on the couch where he spent his night playing video games. Three empty pizza boxes were scattered around the floor along with a large soda bottle. Also, empty. His laundry was in a pile next to the couch instead of the basket on the table. He was going to run it down to the laundry room that afternoon. He swore on it.

"Uh...I didn't know you were coming over," Peter excused, running ahead of Tony to grab the boxes and bottles. Tony watched the boy jump around the room, flipping over the couch and rushing back and forth to the trash multiple times. The kid was quick. But not quick enough.

"So, the pizza money May left is gone, isn't it?" he asked, dropping the paper bag onto the relatively clean coffee table now it was clear of takeout boxes.

"Well, she left it _to buy pizza_," Peter shrugged.

"Over three nights," Tony added. "And it was for either pizza or groceries or any sort of food. You spent it all on the first night, kid."

Peter looked down, embarrassed.

"I was hungry,"

"You're always hungry," Tony laughed. "There's breakfast. Something tells me I should have picked up something a little less greasy."

Peter reached down to the pile of crumpled laundry, pulling out a shirt to slip on. 

"You didn't have to bring me breakfast," Peter shook his head.

"Again, _terrible_ hosting,"

"Sorry," Peter sighed. "Thank you, Mr. Stark,"

Tony waited for Peter to open the bag and begin eating before he walked over to the fridge, opening it, much to Peter's horror.

"You're something else," the man chuckled. "You ate the two dinners May left?"

"I was starving when I got home from school!" Peter argued, mouth full of bacon and bread. "Wait...how do you know she left me dinner?"

"She always does, doesn't she?" 

"And how did you know about the pizza money?"

"She always does that, too."

Peter stared at him, shaking his head.

"Unbelievable," he groaned. "You're her _sidekick, _now?"

"Hey, I'm no one's sidekick, that's Rhodey's job," Tony defended.

"I don't need a babysitter, Mr. Stark," he rolled his eyes, finishing the last bite of his breakfast. 

Tony shrugged, folding his arms.

"I'm not babysitting you,"

"You're _spying_ on me,"

"I'm checking up on you, out of my_ own_ curiosity," he corrected.

Peter watched him carefully, noticing his eyes darting around the room. He knew Tony couldn't help it, he was observant at all times, always thinking and calculating and taking note. He probably saw Peter's messy room, his school bag hanging from the ceiling on a lazy web, swaying in the wind that crept in through his open window. 

"So, how long's your aunt out of town?"

"Rest of the weekend," Peter answered. "But you know that already, _sidekick_,"

Tony glared at the boy.

"You just lost the pizza money I was going to leave you,"

"I can cook myself food," he shrugged, completely bluffing.

"Yeah? Okay, what's on the menu tonight?" Tony asked, calling that obvious bluff.

Peter thought. He tried to remember what he could see in the fridge, what he could throw together, what would be safe to actually consume. There were tomatoes, some cheese, milk (expired?), and some leftover soup (leftover for a reason, Peter didn't want to hurt May's feelings - DO NOT EAT). 

"I can make spaghetti,"

Tony grinned.

"What's the first step?"

Peter rolled his eyes.

"Everyone knows the first step in spaghetti. It's the easiest thing to cook,"

"Right," Tony nodded. "So, what is it?"

Peter stared back at him.

"You...you put the uh, the water on the stove. Y'know, boil it,"

"Sure. What about the sauce?"

"You cut the tomatoes," he shrugged, watching Tony's grin get wider. "I mean you crush them, make the mush, you know? Like a sauce,"

"So your spaghetti is just boiled pasted with pummelled tomatoes on top?"

"Oh, and _you _know how to make it?"

"My mom was Italian," he countered. "And spaghetti is the easiest thing to cook,"

Peter let out a long groan.

"I can feed myself, Mr. Stark. I can take down criminals and go patrolling every night, I think dinner is the least of my worries," 

"Right," Tony nodded.

The kid had a point. 

But something was churning up inside Tony. Worry? Discomfort? 

The idea of Peter being here alone made him uneasy. Yes, he was a teenager. Yes, he could take care of himself. But it wasn't really about that. Tony knew that Peter didn't like being alone for too long, especially without his aunt at home. This was more concern for him being lonely. Yes, that was it. 

Tony wasn't his father or his guardian or his anything really. These feelings were just silly. But they weren't going away.

"How about you come have dinner at the tower tonight?" Tony suggested. "Whatever you want. Maybe something slightly healthier than all this. Your aunt would kill me if you ate terrible food with me. Not because I'm a _sidekick,_ but because she's terrifying. Also Pepper would kill me for feeding you fast-food, so no mention of that grease wrapped breakfast, alright?"

Peter looked to the man in confusion, processing all the word being thrown at him. Dinner. At the tower.

"Pack a bag, okay?"

"Y-you want me to stay?"

"Might as well," Tony shrugged. "If we're not having trash for dinner than we're definitely having dessert afterwards. And we can watch that stupid movie you're always talking about-"

"_Star Wars_?" Peter cut in. "You want to watch that with me?"

"I want to watch the one you quote the most so I can actually understand you. I'm not committing to the whole franchise,"

Peter eyes widened.

"Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because...you know...don't you want to do something else with your Saturday night?" 

"Like what?"

Peter shrugged, staring at the man.

"Like..._anything _else?"

Tony sometimes forgot that Peter felt like this. When they would have their back-and-forth banter, Peter could be quite confident. But when it came down to things that Peter valued, like spending time together, he always backed away as if he was pushing it too far. As if he was going to say something or do something that would make Tony never want to see him again.

"Nope. I want to watch _Star Wars_ on my Saturday night and I need you to watch it with me," Tony answered. "I feel like I'm gonna need a lot of background information and explanations,"

"Oh I can give you all the backgrounds!" Peter assured, scrambling to get to his room and pack a bag. "Have you watched _any _of them?"

"Nope."

"Oh my god, there's so much to know! But I can break it down, I promise. Do you want me to start now? If we're watching it tonight then I should start explaining some stuff to you now..."

Tony listened to the boy ramble off important Star Wars information, but all he could hear was his voice now, not the actual words. When Peter spoke like this, he was happy. He was excited. He was comfortable. That's all Tony wanted. Maybe he didn't love the idea of sitting through a science fiction movie that required paying attention to every detail, but he did love the idea of sitting through it with Peter by his side.

Peter, who would be fed and happy and safe in his home. Where Tony could see him and stop imagining the boy sitting alone in his apartment or out there patrolling and coming home to no one. 

So, maybe Tony _did _do this for himself. Maybe Peter would have been totally fine spending the whole weekend on his own in his apartment without May. Maybe Tony was more paternal than he thought. 

"I thought I'd bring this," Peter suggested, holding an unopened box of Lego. "It's the Falcon, I...I was gonna start making it this weekend, but it's more fun with someone else. If...well, I mean, if you like the movie, you might want to...but it's Lego, it's for kids, you don't have to-"

"If you're ready to have you ass handed to you, sure," Tony shrugged. "I'm actually amazing at building with Lego,"

Peter's eyes widened.

"You play with Lego?"

"_Build_ with Lego, not play," Tony rolled his eyes. "I've made a few things. Passing time on flights, when tech is down. Got really good at it too,"

"Well, I'm pretty good at it too, so..."

Tony smirked.

"Come on, I'm hoping you can fit the Star Wars catch-up into the car ride," 

Peter followed the man out of the apartment, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and thinking that he didn't mind that May had told Tony to keep an eye on him this weekend. In fact, he had never been more thankful. 

**Author's Note:**

> So this chapter could have a second part if you would be interested in reading that, just let me know!


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